“How could I worry? I’ve witnessed you three get things done around here firsthand.”
Poppy had fluttered to the breakfast table and was writing furiously on a notepad. “We’re going to need a lot of help, including construction. Think Keaton will be interested?”
My cheeks went hot, the temperature rising when my sisters’ gazes fell on me. Grant looked at me, then at them, confused.
“Why are all y’all lookin’ at me?” I asked.
“Gotta delegate,” Poppy said with a sly smile on her face. “I’ll head up the whole project. Jo and Grant—you two handle outreach and fundraising. I bet Presley and Sebastian will help too, if we ask nice,” she mused. “And Daisy, you’re the head of operations. Including overseeing construction.”
“Well, now, hang on a second—”
“Someone has to do it,” she insisted like an asshole. “Don’t you think Grant and Jo are better handling the money stuff, since it’s Grant’s money after all?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“And I’m the one who should probably run the whole situation? You don’t want to do it, do you?”
“No, but—”
“Then it’s settled,” she said as she stood. “On Monday, go find out if Keaton is interested, and we’ll take it from there.”
“Did we just start a charity?” Jo mused.
“I think maybe we did,” Poppy answered with a smile.
But all I could think about was the proximity I might be to Keaton, and if it was possible to survive the endeavor.
Somehow, I figured it wasn’t.
7
DAMNED IF YOU DO
KEATON
I scrubbed a hand across my mouth, the rasp of my beard the only sound in my office at our business. On the other side of the door, far, far away, I heard the happy voices of my brothers going about their business, as usual. In here, I was alone with invoices I couldn’t pay.
The most urgent were the few I’d begged extensions for. But the money I’d planned to use to settle our bills had gone straight to repairing and maintaining some of our larger equipment and to pay the new hires. I’d moved some money around laterally—there wasn’t enough to make a dent. All I could do was spread it around, like trying to cover up my meat with mashed potatoes so I could get dessert.
I’d never had to touch the trust twice in this short a time frame. My stomach turned at the realization.
A knock rapped before my office door opened, and I coolly closed my laptop with my heart in my throat, hoping I didn’t look suspicious to Millie. But she was too giddy about whatever she was here for to notice.
My face quirked as I assessed her rosy cheeks, her pursed but smiling lips, her sparkling eyes.
“Keaton, I have Daisy Blum here to see you, if you have a moment.
My heart, which was still lodged in my throat, doubled in size, nearly choking me. But I didn’t miss a beat.
“Sure, send her in. Thanks, Millie.”
Millie opened the door the rest of the way and moved out of the way. And for a brief moment, time stretched out into a thin line that connected Daisy to me.
Her face was turned to Millie, looking at her elder with eyes full of kindness and a smile so honest, so gentle, it hit me in the gut. Her dark hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, her bangs brushing dark eyebrows and curling tendrils licking her jaw. My eyes followed the long line of her neck, the curve of her shoulders, down to her waist where the shell-pink fabric of her top was tucked into the band of a rosy polkadot skirt, the fabric shifting as she walked, the hem swaying.
Our eyes met.
I only noticed the flare of color in her cheeks and the plump bow of her smile in my periphery. All I really saw were her eyes, the color of endless sky, soft with hope and sparkling with wit, framed by fans of jet-black lashes. They were eyes to fly away in, to drown in, so lose oneself, forever lost to the siren’s call.
When caught by those bewitching eyes, I didn’t believe there could be any escape.
Millie bounced her way out, closing the door behind her, and the room shrank by half.
“Hi, Keaton,” Daisy started, hesitating near the door. “I’m sorry to bother you without an appointment.”
I didn’t know when I’d stood up, but that was when I noticed. Maybe it’d been instinctive manners to stand when a woman entered a room. Maybe it’d been that siren song, and next thing I knew, I’d be stumbling around my desk and into her.
I hoped it wouldn’t be the latter. I couldn’t gauge how much I’d already embarrassed myself and didn’t want to make it any worse.
I gestured to the chairs in front of me. “You’re no bother. Please, sit.”
As she did, so did I.
“What can I do for you?”
Again, she hesitated, glancing at her hands before tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear, then thinking again and untucking it.
I couldn’t help but smile just a little. “I didn’t do anything to make you nervous, did I?”
That earned me a small laugh, accompanied by a relaxing of her shoulders. “No, I’m sorry. I was just thinking that the last time you saw me, I was in my pajamas.”
“Barefoot,” I added.
The color in her cheeks deepened, though she was still smiling. “My sisters are cruel creatures. I’d have preferred a second to put some clothes on.”
“Don’t think twice about it. I didn’t,” I lied. I’d thought at least thirty times past twice about it.
Something in her shifted at my words, closed up, stiffened, though still, she was smiling. I realized what I’d said could be taken another way, but I didn’t correct myself.
It’s better for everyone if I don’t.
“Well,” she started, sitting up a little straighter, her back at least six inches from the chair, “I wanted to reach out and see if you’d be willing to work with my sisters and I on a project we’re starting. After the other day with Doug, I thought you might be interested in building a homeless shelter.”
She launched into a proposal that she and her sisters had cooked up after our interaction on Main Street, and I sat back, listening and watching the light in her shine. They wanted to build a tiny house shelter on their property, set up a community facility there, a clinic. And would we want to be a part of the project?
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
“You would?” she asked, blinking as if confused.
“You’re surprised?”
“Well, I … I suppose I thought you might want to see some plans or a business proposal or something before you agreed.”
For a moment, I paused, collecting my thoughts. “Daisy, this town is part of my family, even Doug and Mitchell and the rest of them. It’s just like you said—if they want to get rid of the homeless, we can help by relocating them. Give them a place to stay off Main Street. Help them find jobs and get on their feet. It’s the best idea I’ve heard since they started coming to town.”
An understanding passed between us, lit her up. And her flame lit me up.
“Yes, exactly,” she said, excited. “Grant is going to fund it, but we’re going to do some outreach too. I’d like to get some numbers together for him and a budget ready for you. Is there any way we could get some sort of … off the record, ballpark figure?” She shook her head. “Never mind. I won’t put that pressure on you.”